


Mentor? That's my dad!

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: BAMF Tony Stark, Crossing Parallels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Idk how this ended up so long, Insecurity, JUST LET PETER BE TONY'S SON, Lot's of POV Jumps since it's two universes, Metaphors, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not even related to Endgame, Parallel Universes, Parent Tony Stark, Paternal Instinct, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Tony switches places with another version of himself, a version of himself who's legitimate son was Peter Parker. Stepping into that roll would be something new entirely, something he very much wish he had for himself.





	Mentor? That's my dad!

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTAND FOR STORY:
> 
> THE ****** are the jumps in parallels, --- these are just normal breaks
> 
> Also this doesn't spoil anything or is even related to endgame (lol i saw it and have some mixed feeling but its a great film!)

The inventor padded among his workshop, bare feet desperately cold against the floor. It’s icy texture sending shivers through his spine and echoing in on his lonesome. Pepper had gone out for the week, a deal in Australia having come up and stolen her away.

Tony liked to think he was alright on his own, always had been, but after the Avengers had disbanded, it had been hard to look at the empty halls of the compound and not feel...something.

It changed when he met the kid, he didn’t feel as lonely. He didn’t want to bury himself in scotch or his sorrows, he wanted to laugh with the boy and help him build. Tony wanted to be there for the boy, he could see what the boy could offer the world, and everything in his heart told him _he_ could help with that.

 _He_ could bring the future so much closer just by being there for the boy. Tony could tell from the moment he’d seen the kid on youtube he had promise, and he’d been giddy when he found out the boy’s backstory.

Son of Mary and Richard Parker, a genius family, torn apart by loss, leaving behind a boy. It was painfully familiar, but Tony knew, from his own experience. Peter Parker, Spider-Man, would be a better man than he. A better hero, a better everything. The kid only affirmed it when they met, Tony was sure he’d never be able to get those words out of his head. Mainly because Tony’s heart lurched forward in a sick sense of curiosity.

What could have happened to the boy that made him so sure it was his job to save those who likely wouldn’t even give him the time of day?

Spider-Man wasn’t cruel towards villains, wasn’t rough in rounding them up. He was kind, he had fun, he inspired the children and helped old ladies cross the street. Those facts drove the inventor up the walls, even when compared to Steve, the kid seemed to be the only one there for the right reasons.

Tony saw too much of Steve in the kid, but that didn’t drive him as mad as how much of himself he saw too. The Avenger didn’t want to admit how graciously happy he was when he realized the dark parts of himself the boy didn’t share, but when those words came to mind Tony almost wondered if he was wrong.

Tony wouldn’t be surprised if Guilt screamed the boy’s name at night as if he were the monster in it’s nightmare. Tony knew guilt well, they’d shaken hands only for the figure to hold on tight and throw him into the darkness. And when Guilt pulled him back up from under the dark molasses that was so constricting and blinding, he was thrust into the arms of despondency and fear. The hold was so empty, so bone rattling that his left arm throbbed with his heart.

Always threatening to give out, but Tony had been strong enough to break free from that hold. To fill his chest with so much blue the world would never question if he had a heart ever again. But Peter hadn’t needed to do that, Peter hadn’t needed to prove he had a heart.

Then why did the boy feel so guilty he needed to hide under red webs and trapeze a crime ridden city?

Tony knew the boy’s past was spotted, knew the instances in the young child’s life could have destroyed the boy and filled him with a sense of justice strong enough to send him into the justice system.

But the boy didn’t do just that, he leapt off buildings and created webs to catch criminals. Not only did he do that, but he crashed a plane and let himself bleed. Let himself mourn a family he believed he’d broken for doing the right thing.

Peter Parker terrified him. Not in the same way his once friends did, but he terrified him in that when Peter Parker looked at him he was forced to face himself. A self too good to ever come to fruition, but Tony couldn’t deny if he could be anyone, he’d be the boy he’d come to care for so dearly.

It wasn’t supposed to happen that way, really it hadn’t, but Tony had fallen hard and fast into a sea of paternal feelings that told him to protect or he’d have something worse than weapons to regret for the rest of his life.

He knew he should tell the boy this, he should tell him he cared. He tried once before, but the kid had something bigger to deal with that started with a capital V. The cycle of shame may not have been broken yet, but Tony had every intention on doing it. He just didn’t know when or how, or if he could ever truly bring himself too.

The kid had to at least know he cared for him in a familial way, why else would he check in as often as he does now? Or make him two multimillion dollar suits? Better yet why would he give him an actual internship and take a bunny eared photo for him to put on his desk?

The inventor had been to caught up in these thoughts to realize he’d slipped his phone from his sweatpants drooping pockets and entered his password that totally wasn’t ‘Le knock knock’ and had dialed the young arachnids number.

“Mr. Stark?” the boy asked, sounding surprised but not at all unhappy with the development.

“You busy today?” Tony replied, voice a little croaky at lack of use. He had been cooped up in the lab for a better part of two days with no outside input, and DumE hadn’t been acting up so there was no reason for him to christen his vocal cords at all.

“No!” The boy replied quickly, his excitement carrying through the phone to the point the inventor couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up,” Tony hummed, not waiting for the boy’s answer of ‘okay’ before hanging up the phone and pocketing it again. Moving to exit his own little place of solace only for his body to halt. Skin heating up before it lit in a mix of dark teal and green, smoking over his figure.

A fiery pain pinching his nerves, pushing the air from his lungs, forcing a never ending stream of tears from his eyes. The inventor gruelled in agony, knees locking only to send him into the floor where his eyes shut tightly to ignore the glow of his skin and the pain that followed.

His eyes opened again at the shout of “Dad!” and his body gently being moved up back to his knees where he leaned heavily against Peter. Which was odd because Tony hadn’t even had the chance to pick the kid up, maybe he should have listened to the boy’s reply; he could have already been on the way.

That didn’t explain the ‘dad’ thing, but with his body shivering in an attempt to come down from the experience he didn’t think too much of it, even though he knew he’d catalogue the word 'dad' in his brain probably forever.

Small hands frantically roamed over his shoulders and neck, before Tony found his head leaning on the boy’s shoulder as the kid slipped between the space of his knees and hugged him.

Tony returned it, the muscles in his arms cramping but the boy didn’t seem to mind his weight. If the boy complained Tony was more than ready to call bullshit because he’d watched the kid stop a bus with his bare hands.

The kids voice was frightened when he called out again, “Dad, are you okay?”

The word the man cataloged again, as he then ran through possible injuries in his head but the lingering pain faded leaving him exhausted and a little off kilter. As if he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

Tony briefly considered he’d just had a heartattackbut it wasn’t likely. Not with the glow that had appeared from his skin. Friday hadn’t alerted him of any intruders so it wasn’t a weapon. Tony thought his food could have been spiked but Tony wasn’t sure when the last time he ate was because it certainly wasn’t in the last twenty four hours.

“Dad?” The boy asked again, tone sharper but not any less lacking in concern.

“Just tired Pete,” Tony managed to ground out, giving the boy a reassuring squeeze even though his arms protested. The Avenger didn’t know why it took him so long to realize what was happening wasn’t normal, but when Peter maneuvered to bury his face in his throat Tony couldn’t help but feel even more off kilter than before.

“I’m okay,” Tony assured, wondering if that’s what the teen needed to hear but also figuring Peter may be trying to comfort him. Why? He didn’t exactly know, but he let the hug continue until a posh voice broke the silence and shook the inventors core.

“Peter I do not believe this is your father and in fact is a Tony from a different parallel,”

The words sent the kid scrambling away from him quickly, almost so quickly Tony hadn’t even realized the hug had stopped before he finally took in the surroundings. It still was his lab in the compound, but the tables weren’t filled with clutter.

The suits casing was polishished, his tools were actually in their correct spaces, and Jarvis was still very much in the ceiling talking. Not to mention Peter, still goofily dressed in science puns although Tony couldn’t see any tears in the fabric or holes in his shoes.

“I’m from a what?” he asked incredulously, hating how his heart lurched as the boy shakily backed up further before sprinting from the room as if he were a frightened animal. The urge to follow was unshakable, but he knew now something was wrong. And from the looks of it, that something was him.

“A parallel universe, our Tony Stark had been tampering with jumping between parallels. I am assuming on accident he has switched places with you, and is currently residing in your universe. Of course, that is the the most hopeful assumption,”

“So you’re telling me I’m not in my universe?”

“Yes Sir,” the AI replied dutifully, as the inventor shakily reached for a countertop to help bring him to his feet. Mind whirring with the information given, a feeling of panic and dread consuming him to the point he was sure if he let go of the counter he’d crumble back to the floor and this time Peter wouldn’t be there to- _Peter._

Peter had called him dad. This wasn’t his Peter, not his universe.  Tony knew the multiverse theory quite well, he didn’t quite believe it as much as Peter did when the boy ran around screaming about the Mandela effect and freaking out over how he thought the monopoly guy had a monocle.

“Why did Peter call me dad?” Tony had heard the AI refer to _other_ him as the boy’s father. But that could still mean adoption, but still Tony never liked not knowing. Especially when he seemed to realize in some great epiphany that he wanted his own Peter to call him dad.

“Yes, biologically you are his father in this parallel,” Jarvis hummed.

And in those few words the worst sense of longing the inventor had ever felt wormed its way into his heart as if it intended to take permanent residence. Tony had been shocked when he realized those few months ago that he thought of the boy as family, but as a son?

The mere thought of it sent a swirling mix of fear and joy into his heart, both pleased and petrified. But even then a sliver of something else made its way inside him too. The word for it he didn't know, but it made him feel cheated.

This version of him had been graced with having Peter as a son, and been given the gift of watching the boy become the very thing Tony admired while he had not. He didn’t get to see what had formed the boy, and he didn’t have any hand in forming him either, all he had was paternal instincts that he was too scared to listen to.

Whether it be because he didn’t believe he could ever father someone after his own youth left nothing for him to go off of, or the fact that even though he knew he had apparently hung the moon for the boy if what his aunt had told him was true.

He didn’t think he could even truly fathom the pain of Peter not wanting him as a father. But even though it hurt him oh so badly, Tony also knew it was for the best. He was a horrible man. An ex-alcoholic weapons manufacturer, with no apparent morals, and a lousy track record in responsibility.

It didn’t stop him from wondering what it would have been like to raise the young superhero, would Peter still have even become Spider-Man under his care? Would he be the same boy that liked his pickles smushed into his sandwiches, and dumpster dived for spare parts?

Tony didn’t know, but the nagging thoughts in the forefront of his mind that often tried to bring him down seemed convinced that wouldn’t be the case and the boy would be ruined, and this time the blame would only be found in himself.

Tony had been afraid to take the spider under his wing in the first place, maybe them not being related saved him from a multitude of panic attacks along with one that Tony didn’t even realize he was having. Not until Jarvis’ voice cut back into his thoughts, breathing instructions and soft assurances following every interval.

The tears in his eyes this time weren’t from that damn dark green light that had flowed underneath his skin, but he forced them out anyway. Knowing he needed to get it out of his system before he got to work.

If the other him had managed to do it, he could too.

***

The teen meandered around his room, waiting, and waiting. Mr. Stark should have gotten here by now, but Peter didn’t know how bad traffic was, plus Peter knew his mentor probably had something important to do before he could get him.

The anxious part of the boy’s brain led him to almost believe Tony did drive over and something happened to him on the way. The urge to slip on his suit and web himself over to the compound nearly made him tear his hair out.

But if he left and Tony got here, Peter wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for making the man come all this way just for nothing. The teen sent a text, a simple word, _“Reschedule?”_

But his phone only beeped in error.

_Message could not be sent._

It did nothing to help his anxiety, so Peter lifted the hatch on his ceiling. Letting his suit fall into his arms, Peter quickly dressed. Crawling out of the window, and diving between the buildings but the teen didn’t go far. He surveyed the many cars, none as fancy as Tony’s making him push his search out by another block, then two, and three.

Dejected, Peter swung home. Stripping his suit off and sliding the suit back in it’s spot in the roof before falling into bed. The moon illuminating his room causing him to check his phone, not only for the time but to see if Tony had texted him back.

Nothing, it was eleven o’ clock, and he’d heard nothing. Checking the news there was nothing to be found about anything pertaining to Tony Stark, it was a relief but it didn’t make him feel any less ignored.

He’d survived three months of that before, Peter didn’t think he’d have to do that again. Not after how close they- no he just imagined Tony actually cared about him. This was just to keep Spider-Man close.

Peter would be stupid to think anything else. It was stupid to think Tony didn’t have more important things to deal with. Maybe he got called on Avengers business, Peter couldn’t be mad at that.

A heads up would have been nice though. At least then he wouldn’t fear being alone again, and berate how naive he really was.

\---

Tony gasped as he looked up from the floor, brow creasing at the crumpled bits of machine surrounding him. The alarm above flared, only sending the man further into a fit of confusion. Not helping his pounding head.

When he managed to get his eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lights, Tony was shocked to see his suit staring curiously down at him. Obviously confused as well, but the damn alarm made the inventor want to scream before he shouted.

“Jarvis off!” He tried, it only grew louder at that. Wailing to the point, Tony picked up a piece of metal and chucked it at the ceiling. The inventor curled up onto his side, eyes now forced together tight enough to bruise his eyelids.

The alarm suddenly stopped all at once, and loud footprints rushed into the lab.

“Friday!” Rhodey shouted, helping the inventor up and the ceiling quickly shut up. Tony managed to prop his eyelids open again, staring confused at the metal surrounding his friends legs.

“Tones, what the hell happened?” Tony wasn’t sure he knew how to answer that. Just followed as the man helped right him on his feet, before the philanthropist dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Willing away a splitting headache, Tony groaned.

“Why didn’t Jarvis shut off?” Tony asked instead of giving a true answer, but this only made the man beside him straighten. Tony stumbled as Rhodey practically dragged him from the lab, not even giving a chance for the inventor to take in his surroundings.

If he was able to he would have noticed how cluttered the the tables were. His used to be that way, until one day he’d brought little Peter downstairs and something had fallen and bonked the poor kids head.

Tony had never truly forgiven himself, and his lab was never dirty again.

His head lay forward as they walked, the open windows still too bright for him. But it only brought back his attention to the loud footfalls of his friend beside him. Rhodey never wore...leg braces before.

“Your legs,” he slurred, the look he got back from the man was beyond worried. Tony never liked seeing his friend so worried, and shut his mouth, continuing to let himself be half dragged to the infirmary.

Before the inventor could even look up again after Rhodey deposited him on the bench, a pen light was in his eyes. Small hands maneuvered him, but her voice was familiar. Likely Helen, his eyes were still struggling to get the pens glare out for him to really look at her.

“No signs of concussion,”

“He thought Jarvis was still here and didn’t know about my legs. Somethings wrong,” Rhodey shot back.

The misplaced man’s head finally brought itself to the conclusion to his inner imbalance. His machine had worked, just not in the way he thought it would. The him from this universe probably had ended up in his world while he was stuck here.

Sighing the man shook his head, ushering the woman to stop her movements.

“Yeah this probably won’t sound great coming from me since you already think I have a concussion. But I’m not exactly your Tony,”

“I’ll start a CAT scan,” Helen returned to the colonels pointed look, Tony rolled his eyes.

“You know the multiverse theory? I was working on that. But I think all I managed to do is switch places with your Tony,” his _other_ friend, or Rhodey 2.0, he guesses, didn’t seem to be listening and helped him lay back on the bed.

Tony didn’t know what else to say because it was obvious no one was listening to him, so he let himself be wheeled to the machine and checked over. Annoyed at having to stay so still when this world left him so off kilter he felt the need to hold on to something. Almost as if he let go he’d swirl into nothing.

“Nothing's showing up,” Helen sighed and let the man out, Tony raised a brow in a ‘I told you so’ fashion.

“So you’re not our Tony,” Rhodey asked skeptically, as Helen a little roughly swiped the inside of his cheeks with a Q-tip. The man nodded, watching as Helen got to work confirming that fact.

“I was working on something to help travel parallel universes, I didn’t think It’d switch my place with your Tony’s but it did,” Tony could see both of their cogs turning, but Helen perked up quickly.

“That’s amazing!” And then, “Your DNA is exactly the same as well, wait so what’s different in your universe?”

“Well firstly I have Jarvis, not...Friday?” Tony questioned confused, “And you don’t have leg braces,” The man mentioned, head leaning towards his friend, voice solemn.

A sad smile was given in turn, “Yeah you have Friday after the whole Ultron thing destroyed Jarvis,”

“Ultron?” Tony couldn’t help but ask, once an idea with that name had come to mind. But he’s scrapped it immediately when he realized it’d only do his son more harm than good. Peter was always so good at reeling him back in.

_Peter!_

“Fuck,” Tony cursed, thinking about how his son would react to a different him taking this place. There was no telling how long he’d be stuck here, but Tony could only assume his counterpart would take as good of care of his son as he would his own.

Speaking of, Tony figured he’d have to go talk with his son here. He’d need to explain what happened, and assure he’d do what he could to get his father back.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asked roughly, looking up at his friend.

“Underoos? He’s at home, why?” Rhodey asked confused, giving the man an odd look especially when Tony gave him another look of question.

“The malibu house?”

Rhodey shook his head, still looking quizzical. “No, his apartment with his aunt.”

“Peter doesn’t have an aunt,” Tony stated, he certainly didn’t have any siblings and neither had Mary.

“Who does Peter live with in your universe?” Helen asked, stepping in because Rhodey seemed at a loss.

“Considering he’s my son, me,” Tony affronted, hands wringing together in frustration. Shocked looks met the billionaire’s terse glare, the man just waiting for a explanation as if to why his son wasn’t living with him.

“You’re telling me that Peter’s your son?” Rhodey clarified, getting Tony’s nod in return with a raised brow.

“Yes,” Tony bit, heart racing.

“If I may explain,” the ceiling chimed, Friday explaining since the two other humans in the room didn’t seem ready to explain, “Peter Parker is the son of the deceased Mary and Richard Parker. After their death Peter was entrusted to Richard Parker’s brother Benjamin Parker who married Mary’s best friend May. Not long ago Ben Parker was murdered, leaving Peter the last of the the Parker bloodline and in the sole custody of his aunt May.”

The information left the inventors chest tight, a deeply rooted anger and frustration burning his core. Hurt rattling his bones, because Peter, his son, wasn’t his son. At least not here. The fact probably shouldn't hurt as much as it did. But his eyes teared up anyway.

The hopeful thought that his counterpart would be able to care for his son faltered.

“So how did Peter end up with your Tony?” The man questioned, feeling more and more anxious.

“When the accords split up the Avengers and we had to fight Cap, you found the kid and brought him on to fight. After that you...well the other you ignored him. Kid made a mistake and then you took everything away. Then he saved the day, by himself, and you took him back, ever since then you’ve been mentoring the kid. Internship and all,”

“I brought Peter to fight Steve?” Anger flared from the man’s nostrils, his faltering hope of his Peter being safe in other’s him care had diminished entirely.

His friend seemed to sense his inner dilemma, “He’s in good hands though, trust me. Tony may have made some mistakes, but he’d never let the kid get hurt,”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the man replied sarcastically, bitterly, getting up and making his way back to the lab. But the door didn’t open, not helping his elevated heart rate at all.

“Why won’t it open?” The doors did open then, Friday simply deciding to let the man do what he had to. Her creator could take it up with her later, but the AI figured her creator would be okay with the intruder considering it’d bring him home faster.

Tony groaned when he saw the mess again, shifting through the materials over and over until he found one of the items he needed. It’d probably take him hours to figure out where the rest where, if the man even had them. He may need to call their version of Shuri.

He had a lot of work to do, he also had to resist the urge to go and visit their Peter.

***

The lab was at least clear, clearer than his own. That's why the broken monstrosity of parts littering the corner furthered the eerie feeling in the inventor's gut. He had a feeling this place was never this out of place.

Shuffling over to the parts, Tony inspected them. Jumping lightly when one piece nearly burned his hand. After a few minutes of waiting for the pieces to cool, Tony carefully turned over the unrecognizable junk before dumping the unsalvageable parts in the garbage.

At a loss, Tony scanned the room. Wondering where everything was, all the while being at a complete loss of what to do. The door opened then, Peter stepping in albeit hesitantly. He was holding a tray of food, with something tucked beneath his arm. The kid placed the tray down, revealing it had been a first aid kit beneath his arm.

Peter’s head was tipped down, “I-um, I-well I thought you’d be hungry,” the boy rushed out, stuttering his words before he carefully hugged to himself.

“Thank you,” Tony replied a little breathlessly, carefully coming closer and cringing when Peter stepped back. The small action shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, but the mechanic understood.

Tony grabbed the tray, a little surprised the boy had taken the time to actually cook him a meal and not simply reheat something. The inventor wasn’t aware if his own Peter had any real prowess in the kitchen, but considering his aunts cooking Tony assumed Peter at least knew a little so he didn’t have to decide between starving himself and food poisoning.

It was something he didn't think he’d ever be curious about, but here he was now. Realizing Peter with his metabolism had to eat, and a lot at that. His income likely didn’t even allow for the most nutritious fuel for his body, he probably was making kraft mac n’ cheese at three in the morning.

The concerned parent part of his brain made note to later on give May a food budget, one they wouldn't be discussing with Peter. Sure May was just as opposed to outside help, but Peter’s body demanded more and surely she’d give to that.

“Do you cook often?” Tony couldn’t help but ask, likely startling the kid since the boy gave a wide eyed look.

“Um..no..well...I help...well you...if you’re home and you wanted to cook. I well…”

The other him cooked with Peter, he taught Peter to cook. The small domestic image fluttered throughout the inventors head, imagining that they worked just as well in the kitchen as they did the lab.

“I’m sorry about all this,” Tony then apologized, knowing his constant thoughts were making him an even odder house guest. It was probably bad enough for Peter to interact with him. He couldn’t image having to face someone he had a connection with and suddenly that persons there and there’s absolutely nothing.

The other him must be feeling the same way, he almost wanted to say Peter likely felt worse but after some time Tony realized with a startling amount of clarity that Peter was exactly the same. Blame and Guilt loved to bully them. Loved to take over, loved to consume their very being until there was nothing left.

Whether those things possessed them for days, weeks, or maybe only a few minutes; They let it break their skin and bones, leaving scars and fractures that would never truly go away. Tony yearned to let the boy know that nothing bad could possibly ever be his fault, but Tony didn’t believe in that when it came to himself. He may just be the kids hero, but Peter the more he thought about it didn’t exactly listen to him at all.

He was as stubborn as Steve, and well...him too.

He’d have to bring that up to Peter, but it wouldn’t do much. It was still something to be addressed though. But an intervention could come later, after all he’d be put on the spot as well.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Tony hated how it was those words that Peter’s tongue didn’t decide to stutter out. _Quick to forgive. Quick to appease, to assure_. Why’d the kid have to be so good?

In the very least it answered that Peter had remained the same, even under his care. Tony hoped in some way he could ask the other him how he did it, and if he had the same fears he had now that he realized he could potentially parent the boy.

“Dad was working on something, I don’t think he got it quite right. As well...you can see,” the teen hesitantly took a seat on a stool as Tony picked up the fork and got to work on the spaghetti and bacon wrapped chicken breast.

“You can fix it though, right?” The boy asked with a sense of optimism that held a small hint of the sense he was waiting for a possible rejection. But before he could answer the boy was standing and grabbing the blue prints, coming close and handing it over.

Tony had to swallow the bacon in his mouth, wiping his hands on a towel before he unfolded the blue prints. He found it odd they weren’t digital, but Peter was quick to explain.

“He wanted a copy incase something happened and Jarvis wasn’t accessible,” while saying this the boy popped open the digital version above. The kid watched with almost steely eyes as Tony looked the calculations and everything over.

His anxiety clear. The blueprints were beyond detailed, he’d almost say too much but considering some of the parts were clearly foreign. He was grateful, he didn’t have too much experience with Wakandan technology, but he did have enough.

“Yeah, I can do it,” Tony assured in a breath, body straightening as the spider suddenly hugged his side. The inventor carefully held back, letting the boy laugh excitedly into his shoulder before he pulled away.

“I’ll call Shuri and she can send over the parts!” The boy was gone then, rushing from the lab leaving the man to nod dumbly to no one before picking apart the rest of his food. The burst of energy rushed over the inventor in waves, it was another thing he didn’t think he’d ever experienced with the Peter at home.

His Peter was stiff, their interactions still cautious even when they were fluent. Sometimes it was worse than when he first met Bruce, but at least after Tony had showed he wasn’t afraid; the man had relaxed. He just didn’t know what to say or acknowledge that’d help Peter relax too.

He had a feeling he’d learn though in the next few days he’d be stuck here.

***

Shuri had been kind in saying the package would take a least a week considering she had a few things to configure first. She also begged to deliver it personally because she’d wanted to see Peter and look into his schematics.

Schematics he didn’t have, he remembered for the most part of what had to be done. But duplicating their switch would not be a simple task. If he had some help though, it’d certainly make things easier.

“Jar-Friday?” Tony called to the ceiling above, still groaning at the unorganized mess of tools.

“Get me in contact with Peter Parker,” considering Shuri would be coming to see the boy at the end of the week their meeting was inevitable, might as well rip off the bandaid. Friday chimed as the phone rang, each ring setting the man’s nerves alight.

“Hello? Mr. Stark? Um, did something happen? Or did I get the date wrong about when you wanted me to come over. It was probably my fault, I’m sure you were busy yesterday,”

The words had the man’s throat tighten, ‘Mr. Stark’ reaching into his chest cavity. Each letter a sharp needle digging further into him as if he were nothing more than a doll. His son, no, in this universe his protege, the child holding that doll.

Breaking it, obviously unintentionally, he was sure, surer than any man in the universe that the boy he raised could be anything but imperfect. He didn’t raise this boy, although a father always knows. _Always._

Those words were enough to prove it too.

“No, it’s not your fault Pete. Something did happen though, I don’t really know how to explain it over the phone. Why don’t I have Happy go get you?”

“Okay,” The boy hummed, voice now a little concerned. The call ended and Friday gently informed her non-creator-creator that Happy complied and was currently on his way to the car to go pick the boy up.

While he waited he might as well get started on what he could do. By the time his brow was filled with sweat and his hands were slick with grease, the teen stepped in. Eyes wary and cautious as he looked over at him.

“Happy, well Happy filled me in,” Peter murmured, moving and taking a seat up on one of the stools.

“Yeah, good. I didn’t really know what to say,” Tony admitted, a wide smile on his face even though it was a little forced.

“So our Mr. Stark is in your universe?” The boy asked tentatively, his brown doe eyes widening a little but his voice was just as soft and slightly cautious for the silly question that followed, “Does the monopoly guy in your universe have a monocle?”

A chuffed laugh escaped the older man at that, but he shook his head, “No the monopoly guy doesn't have a monocle in our universe either. But your ‘Mr. Stark’ should be back in my lab. Is his always this cluttered?”

Peter chuckled softly at that, nodding, “It’s kinda organized chaos, he’ll clean up but as soon as his next project is on. Well…” the boy trailed off with a fond smile.

“Did you want to help me with this? The parts won’t all be here until the weeks over. Shuri-”

“Yeah she texted me before I got into the lab, what do I need to do?” Peter informed, wringing his hands together. Cautiously coming closer and taking the seat beside the older man, his brain so easily getting to work on connecting the pieces before Tony even got a chance to tell him what to do.

It wouldn’t be the first time his son had done it, but it struck him differently now that it wasn’t really his son doing it. Realizing he was staring, the man got onto the other stool and helped along. Adjusting the parts in the boy’s hands so they didn’t hurt him as he slotted the pieces together.

The two worked until the boy’s stomach rumbled, a sound not terribly loud but Tony wouldn’t ignore it. His arm slid around the kids shoulder, making sure the boy wiped off his greasy hands before they headed to the kitchen. Completely unaware of the soft blush on the boy’s cheeks, and the moisture growing in his eyes. But Peter blinked them away before he could notice as they reached the kitchen.

Tony yanking opening the refrigerator and shifting through its contents, pleased when he found some chicken breast and bacon. There was also some asparagus and potatoes.

“Pete why don’t you peel these for me? and I’ll get started with the chicken,” the boy nodded, doing what the man asked as the man marinated the chicken and Peter then helped to wrap them in bacon.

Tony and the boy maneuvered around one another until they slid the meal into the oven, and let the potatoes boil.

“I didn’t know you cooked, well...I knew you could. I’m just normally not around for that, or someone else does,” the boy stammered, causing the older man to stop momentarily. He’d completely forgotten he wasn’t with his own Peter.

“He never cooks for you? But your metabolism-”

“Oh if we eat we normally go out, or Rhodey cooks. But we don’t really eat together much,” The boy then explained, pulling himself up onto the counter where the backs of his feet thumped against the counter in a soft rhythmic bump.

The mechanic was sure his heart began to chase that rythm. Lulling him into a sense of calm.

“Why do you stick around, with him?” The man asked, voice incredibly soft as he tapped his fingers on the table. The question had the boy’s face flicker in a mix emotions, none he could pinpoint as the boy finally found an answer.

“I think he needs me, maybe even more than I need him,”

The inventor opened his mouth to return something, anything, but the oven beeped and he quickly stepped away. Oven mitt clad hands taking out the warm dish, while Peter started to set the table.

“You may be right,”

***

The inventor followed the other Peter throughout the compound, still utterly exhausted. The boy took him to other him’s room, “Pepper’s out on business and won’t be back until next month. She won’t mind,”

It may be his room, but it wasn’t really his room. Something felt wrong about taking over the space.

“You sure? I could always sleep on the couch,” the boy nodded.

“It's not like it’ll make a difference. Well...goodnight,”

“Goodnight kiddo,” Tony murmured, watching as the boy retreated down the hall. He stepped into the room, not at all surprised to see it was just as immaculate as other him’s lab. Crawling into bed, the inventor rolled his neck to get the kinks out before his eyes fluttered shut and sleep caught him.

In the morning there was readily cooked food on his bedside, the smell invading his nose and keeping him from falling back into a deeper sleep.

Jarvis spoke then, “Mr. Parker made you breakfast before he went to school. He’ll be back at three,” getting out of the bed after he finished the meal, Tony realized he reeked. Maybe the other him wouldn’t mind if he borrowed an outfit. There should be some old Stark Industries apparel in the bottom drawer.

It was a simple pair of black sweats, a white T-shirt and a black hoodie. Setting them aside, he drifted into the bathroom, wondering why getting the showers water just right was so difficult when he had the same exact shower. Apparently every shower in existence was just stubborn when it didn’t belong to you.

The shampoo he usually used wasn’t there, it was the same brand but a different scent. One he hadn’t tried but now that it was in his hair, he’d probably be buying it when he got back home.

“Jarvis, take a message,” talking to his old AI hurt, the name was nearly foreign on his tongue. Other him didn’t know how lucky he was, to have this, Peter and Jarvis. But he’d let him know,

“Recording now,” the posh voice responded.

“Hey other me, if you’re even really me. I look at your life and I’m not sure. I look at mine and think of yours and wish it could have been mine. You probably don’t even know how lucky you are,”

“How lucky you are to have that boy as your own, and to have not lost Jarvis. Do you know what I’d give to have helped shape that kid? To have helped raise him, and watch him become the hero he is today?”

“I’m begging you, don’t let him doubt himself. Don’t get too caught up in work, and don’t you dare do something that may take you away from him. You’re a lucky bastard, and in someway I hate you for it. Please, continue to take care of him, and don’t you dare ever forget he’s your world and I’ll personally come back and kick your ass if I need to,” he ended it there, a little pent up as he brought the tray of breakfast to the kitchen to be washed.

Peter and him had gotten a lot done, but he’d need the rest of the pieces from Shuri to finish.

Little did he know in the other universe, the other Tony had something to tell him too.

***

“You are the biggest piece of shit this planet has to offer, aren’t you? You brought a child to fight a goddamn super soldier! Do you spend any real time with him? I can see just how dejected he feels, and that should never happen. Not with us. You left him alone, and you...dammit. I swear to god if I get back home and my kid is hurt I’m going to kick your ass.”

“You wanna know what he told me, he’s around for you! He wants to protect you, he wants you to act like a dad you idiot! You have his whole world in your hands! I’m warn-no dammit I’m telling you. Don’t crush it, don’t cast him out. Cherish him. Talk to him. Because this kids gone through too much god damn shit for you to ignore him too.”

“Do you know what he’d give to spend time with you? Everything. And why in the hell do you let him call you Mr. Stark? He might not ever call you dad, but ‘Mr. Stark’? If you don’t show that boy how much you care about him, and how much it’d hurt you if you lost him. I swear to god I’m going to take him home with me.”

The inventor ended the message abruptly, the inventors fury only building as he began the tedious process of cleaning the lab. The task carried on as he aquaninted himself with the lack of order leading him to establish a new one.

He hoped the man appreciated it but he doubted it. Maybe if he said Peter did it, but the man had surely seen his lab by now. He’d realize this was undoubtedly his work. Plus he and the other Tony knew Peter wouldn’t dare touch something that he himself wasn’t working on.

—-

“Hey Mr. Stark,” the teen called as the inventor scrubbed the undersides of the work tables, not aware of how grease even came to stick beneath them.

“How was school Bambi?” Tony asked automatically, mind still a little irked at the ‘Mr. Stark’ thing. The nickname took the boy back, not that Tony could see as he went back to the floor to get at the tables.

“Good, it was good,” the teen replied after a short pause, his soft nearly nonexistent footfalls padding closer. With Peter’s powers it was impossible to hear him coming, so Peter made more of an effort to be loud around Tony as not to startle him.

The arachnid settled on the floor beside him, legs crossed as he watched a little confused. “How is there grease under there?”

“You’ll have to ask the slob you call Mr. Stark-and call me Tony, Pete,” The older avenger fired back, the rag in his hand so greasy it was dripping down his arms. Peter scurried to get him a new one, along with some wet wipes.

“Flash bother you?” Tony couldn’t help but ask after he thanked the boy, his own Peter had some bully problems. In the past it was some monster Skip, but Flash was a constant and arguably hadn’t done nearly as bad as the mental scarring Skip had done but it didn’t mean he didn’t get on the boy’s bad side.

“How did you know-does your Peter…”

“Mhm,” was his terse reply,

“He didn’t do much today, he was just a little upset over our test scores,” The boy sighed beside him, head unintentionally falling against his shoulder.

“You got higher than his I’m assuming,” the teen gently nodded in response, not protesting as the man wiped off his greasy hands with the wet wipe before he found himself hugging the small body to his chest.

The spiders thin arms gently wound back around the man’s middle, head tucked safely into the crook of his neck. The kid sighed, not of exasperation but obviously happiness. The grin on the older man’s face was wide.

“We have six more days until Shuri gets here with the parts we need, what did you want to do?” The teen moved to pull apart to answer but stopped himself, grip going just a bit tighter.

“I don’t really know,”

“Patrol sound good?” Tony asked softly, the slightest bit curious as to if this Peter was more advanced in the field than his own. This Peter had fought Steve, this Peter had likely less restrictions to his patrol schedules as well.

“You’d want to go on a patrol with me?” The boy didn’t seem to believe him as they picked themselves up off the floor.

“Of course,” He returned, head turning to the suit that wasn’t his own but the same in every way. At least he thought so. The kid scampered to his backpack, the price tag still hanging off the back meaning it was new, and pulled out his suit.

“I’ll go get changed,” the teen exited the room in a rush of excitement that didn’t fail to spread to the inventor as he stalked forward to the stationed suit and opened the casing. Letting the suit come forward and meld itself to his skin.

“Mr. Stark, before you go out why don’t I take you through the suits functions incase they are not the same as your own?” Friday chimed, earning a nod in response that sent her into a long winded explanation.

Tony begrudgingly listened to her ramblings, brain tossing out the information he already knew and more attentively listened to what was different. But the only real difference he caught was this suit didn’t have Peter’s vitals displayed on his screen. They were accessible just not automatically.

Maybe that was for the best though, because he often got distracted by Karen’s contant monitor of the boy’s heart and such when they fought together. Friday then informed him that if something had happened, he’d have been alerted immediately.

“You ready?” Peter asked with the swish of the door opening.

“If you are,” Peter extended a web to the older man’s boot and then they were on their way.

***

Tony knew the kid would be home soon, he just wasn’t expected to be greeted with a sobbing mess that was clinging to him as if the world was ending. Tony hadn’t had any experience with Peter crying, except when he’d yelled at him and his eyes teared up.

But he didn’t want to think about that, or even entertain that it ever happened. So this time he wrapped himself around the small body, letting him weep into the center of his chest. Babbling, spewing, muffled by the fabric he was pressed so hard against.

He almost wished he hadn’t put the arc reactor back in his chest because it was probably painful to have his nose pressed so tightly against it. To make up for it, his large calloused hands found themself around the boy’s waist and in his hair.

Soft coos falling from his lips before he even knew he was speaking, “It’s okay Pete, I’m right here,” the boy only seemed to cry harder at that. Tony didn’t always remember that Peter had super strength, he didn’t know how much either, but he was sure it was more than Steve. And Steve could manage around twenty five tons.

But it wasn’t hard to forget now when the boy, likely accidently, pushed him back so his back hit one of the worktables. Peter’s grip on him didn’t lessen, the push was just Peter trying to get as close as possible.

It didn’t mean his back didn’t hurt from the action as the worktables edge dug into his lower back, but Peter didn’t seem to notice at all.

“It’s okay Pete,” he tried again, a little breathless from the air being knocked out of him. The kid shook his head no, small body shivering with fear and Tony felt rage. Burning in his stomach and coursing through his veins.

“Skip...he’s back,” the teen sobbed out, the name meaning nothing to the billionaire but it still didn’t fail to put him on edge.

“Okay,” he said cluelessly, hand gesturing to the ceiling before settling back in the boy’s hair as Jarvis got the hint and brought up the man’s file. Making his blood run cold at the information. An almost protective hysteria fell over him, chest rumbling in a growl that Peter seemed to notice immediately because he crushed himself so much closer.

Had his Peter gone through this too?

The question cut through his murderous thoughts, only causing them to double. He was going to rip this bastard apart. Limb by limb, he’d break his bones one my one, he’d gauge the man’s eyes out. He wouldn’t stop until the man’s vocal cords bled from the strain of his screams. And when he got home, and if the answer to the question was yes, he’d do it all over again.

“Did anything happen?” He asked breathlessly, the boy shaking his head no was a gift.

“No, we...we saw each other. I ran, I didn-couldn’t look back,” the boy cried, practically hanging off the older man as his legs seemed to give. Tony didn't know what to do other than nod his head against the boy’s hair.

Waiting, the inventor slowly found his legs giving too. They slid to the floor, the boy sniffling against his chest as Tony’s hand cramped but he didn’t stop the sweeping motion it’d taken over the boy’s back.

***

Tony hadn’t remembered that people were just as crazy as life threatening aliens. It could just be a busy night, or he’d just severely underestimated how dangerous the kids job actually was. Considering the blood rushing down his side, he knew better now then to assume.

His own Peter, and this one too wouldn’t be going on any patrols for a while if he had a say. Peter loomed over him on the rooftop, webbing up his scrapped side with tears falling from his eyes.

“Are you okay? Mr. Stark?” The boy was pleading, still the wrong name, but Tony groaned and nodded anyway. Apparently this him’s suit wasn’t as tight as his own, in fact that extra, extra, level of padding was missing. Hence why a bullet got through.

Reaching his non bloodied hand up, Tony cupped the boy’s cheek and repeatedly swept at the tears falling. “It’s alright Bambi, I’m okay. Let’s go home and fix this up, okay?” The boy sniffled and nodded. Eyes wide and corners crinkling in absolute and utter concern.

The teen helped him up, and they flew home. Tony got three stitches, while the teen bawled into his chest. Apologies on his lips.

***

Tony had tried to get the teen to eat, but his encounter apparently had ruined his appetite. Not knowing how to tread in the situation, he let Peter do what he wanted which seemed to be hugging him and hiding away in his chest.

The only time they parted was for the boy to excuse himself to shower, returning in a fluffy iron man onesie.  He yawned, features a little pale, his wet hair curling. Tony lifted his head in time for Peter to burrow into his chest.

“Let’s get you some water Pete,” he insisted, leading the boy to the kitchen where he could get him some ice water. Peter drank a lot, so much so the older man had to tear the glass away so the boy didn’t drown himself with it.

“Not too much Pete,” he tried. Peter gave a loud sniffle, head giving a small thump when it fell back against the arc reactor. This didn’t seem to bother the boy in the slightest.

“Can... _Isleepinyourroom_?” Peter pushed out in a breath, looking up with eyes that were quickly on the verge of tearing up again. Considering it wasn’t actually his room, Tony nodded, not knowing why he had to ask until he realized Peter wanted to sleep with him.

Throat dry, Tony spoke, “Okay,” his mind suddenly supplying that Peter probably forgot he wasn’t really his father. The teen dragged the inventor back to the bedroom, snuggling into the arc reactor as Tony tucked them in.

Wincing when the boy cried and whimpered in his sleep. Shuri’s arrival seemed farther and farther away.

***

Tony watched painfully as the kid strayed away from him, the bullet that had grazed his side had of course been for the boy but he’d taken it. So, of course, Peter being sweet, naive, and overly guilty believed it was his fault.

He was at a loss at what to say, especially since Peter had went back to his apartment. Isolating himself, and apparently being very quiet at school. May and him talked, and he almost wondered if she was aware he wasn’t really their Stark.

Peter looked up at him, May leaving them alone while Peter hugged to himself.

“Hey Bambi,” he cooed, hating the anxious stance that held to the boy but his face softened at the nickname. The kid couldn’t even get a word out and awkwardly waved.

“Can we talk?”

The teen nodded, moving to sit beside the older man. Odd because Tony expected the boy to sit further away.

“I’m alright Pete, I should have checked the suit out more thoroughly before we went out for a patrol. What you do is so incredibly hard, I didn’t realize that. I knew you did a lot of good, but dodging bullets and potentially getting stabbed? God, kid. I love you more than life itself and you need to know that. I will always try to protect you, and I know you want to return that favor. I know you do. And I know in doing that we might get hurt, and that will never be your fault Bambi,”

The speech sent the teen into a fit of tears before he snuggled into his chest. His hands careful as not to aggravate the stitches.

“I love you too,” the boy cried.

\---

Shuri jumped Peter, hugging tightly as they laughed joyously. After that she walked over to the _other_ Tony, manhandling him as if she was looking for something that just wasn’t there.

“This is awesome!” she squealed, helping them set up the equipment to help switch their places yet again. Tony just raised a brow, it was, but the circumstances and the pain of it wasn’t.

“This should work,” she urged, locking the device onto his arm. Ready to pull the switch.

“Wait!” Peter called, running into the older man’s arms, “Thank you, for everything. I’m going to miss you,” the teen cried.

“I’m going to miss you too kiddo,” the inventor kissed the child’s forehead, a loving smile on his face. “But your Tony’s going to come back, and he’s going to take care of you. And if he doesn’t, you could always come home with me, you now have the blue prints.”

Peter laughed at that, nodding and letting go. A bright but tearful smile on his face as he waved goodbye with hiccuping breaths. The man disappeared with a rush of seemingly green fire but he was gone and another Tony was in his place in a matter of seconds.

“Tony?” Peter called, dropping to his knees beside him. The teen still had tears falling but he hugged the older man tightly.

“Peter?” Tony asked confused, his own unfinished but nearly complete device on his wrist. Apparently other him been trying to get home as well.

“Welcome back,”

“Wooo!” Shuri cheered, taking the device off the man’s wrist while Peter helped him up from the floor.

Tony’s grin at being home faltered immediately as he took in _his_ Peter. The tears causing him a physical pain. He was also a little shocked that the boy had called him ‘Tony’ momentarily making him believe he wasn’t in the right universe, again.

But the remembrance of leaving other Peter, who earlier that week had been scared. And he wanted so desperately to ask the child in front of him did that Skip bastard bother him too. Instead he hugged the teen tightly, knowing it likely wasn’t the time to pry.

“I missed you,” Peter laughed, nose wrinkling when the waft of the older man’s shampoo stuck to the inside of his nose causing him to sneeze. That made Tony’s decision to buy that type disappear but he chuckled to himself. The boy feeling it.

“I missed you too kid,” Tony returned with a pleased sigh. Turning to Shuri, a warm hand remaining on the boy’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, come on Peter we should go to the boardwalk!” Shuri brought up, Peter giving a guilty smile before looking to his mentor and back.

“Would it be okay if we did that tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Shuri agreed, understanding.

“Sir?” The ceiling called, voice feminine and not the heartwrenching british drawl, “The other you has left you a private message.” Funny, he’d done just the same.

“Pete, why don’t we make dinner? You go pick out the ingredients for anything you want and I’ll go take care of this,” the boy nodded, looking taken back before he hurried off, Shuri in tow.

“Play message,”

As the words filled the air, the camera blaring. He wanted almost to physically recoil, and he believed the threat of taking Peter back home with him. Hell he didn’t blame the other him either. But he would take the advice, he’d cherish the kid, act like a dad, and protect him with his life.

He hoped the other him liked his message, and that the other Peter was okay. Their goodbye was long, until it’d been cut short by his random jump. But he knew other Peter was in great hands, his father's hands.

Tony then made his way to the kitchen, a gentle smile on his face.

***

“Dad!” The boy screamed, jumping into his true father’s arms. The pair of Stark’s crying into one another,  joyful laughs filling the empty space of the lab.

“How were things when I was gone?” Jarvis pulled up the footage for the week. The worry he’d had about the other him now had him feeling guilty. No, no version of him could possibly be cruel to Peter. It was foolish of him to think otherwise.

“Skip came back,” the boy supplied softy, “But Tony was nice,” if the man was being honest he didn’t know how to balance the anger and shivering feeling those words gave him but nodded nonetheless.

“I’ll deal with that Bambi,”

“I know, love you dad,”

“I love you too,”


End file.
